


A Sister by all bar Blood

by AvidWriter



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Courage, Fellowship of the Ring, Friendship, Heroism, Journey, Loss, Original Character(s), Sacrifice, Secrets, eventual love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-04-24 18:19:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4930156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvidWriter/pseuds/AvidWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘A Sister by all bar Blood’ follows various events of The Lord of the Rings through the eyes of a new & original female character. Orphaned at a young age, Eliza was adopted by the Steward of Gondor for reasons some suspect as more than charity. Offering her aid to the Ringbearer, Eliza's unique abilities remain secret, but quickly become integral to the survival of the fellowship on their journey to Mordor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sister?!

Cawing loudly, a black cloud of Dunland Crebain soared over Eliza's head. She pulled the hood of her cloak tighter around her face as she hid in a crevice below a large boulder.

Eliza had grown weary from her journeying to and fro from place to place in search of her brother. Doubt flickered in her mind as she toyed with the idea that she might never stumble upon his whereabouts. It had been many months that she'd been searching now and there had been little sign of him.

Thankfully, her prayers that no harm had come to him were answered when she finally reached Rivendell. There she had learned the purpose of the Elrond's secret meeting. The One Ring, the mightiest weapon of the enemy, had remerged… in what some might think was the unlikeliest of places - a hobbit hole, in the quaint meadows of the Shire.

Considering this development a united fellowship of man, elf, dwarf, hobbit and Maia alike, that included Eliza's brother, set out to destroy the One Ring in secret. If it were to fall into the wrong hands and make its way back to Sauron's grasp... Middle Earth would fall to unspeakable evil, darkness and ruin. And the ring  _wanted_  to return to its master; its will was strong.

Eliza pondered on her brother's joining the quest. She, somehow instinctively, knew his aversion to the destruction of such a powerful thing. It was far more likely that he would want to save it, to wield its power for his people - their people. Suddenly, Eliza heard a voice cry out just a short distance away. She shuddered and pushed aside her thoughts to concentrate on the voice – was it friend or foe?

"Spies of Saruman!" the voice cried. "The passage South is being watched. We  _must_  take the Pass of Caradhras."

A thin smile crept its way across Eliza’s face as she recognised the sound. She knew it to be the voice of Gandalf the Grey, a visitor to the halls of Minas Tirith and friend of her brother Faramir – but most importantly, in this particular moment, a member of the fellowship. Finally, she dared to hope she had found them.

"Indeed, the South is under constant surveillance," Eliza remarked as she emerged cautiously from behind the boulder.

Instantly, Aragorn spun to face her. He gripped the hilt of his sword and protectively clasped Frodo's shoulder.

"Sister?!" Boromir called out, utterly bewildered to see her. "What a sight! W-why have you come?"

"Denethor has no daughter," Gimli muttered, confused. "Who  _is_  this lass?"

"This is Eliza of Gondor," Gandalf proclaimed confidently as he began to bridge the distance between them. "She was adopted by the Steward nearly nineteen years ago, when she was but an orphaned child." Turning to Aragorn as he walked he whispered far more carefully, "Denethor does not act without purpose. And this  _particular_  deed of…  _charity_  I am yet come to come to a sound decision upon."

More loudly again, Gandalf continued with a smile, "I would hardly recognise you, my dear, were it not for  _that_  voice."

Laughing cheerfully, Boromir approached slipping an arm around his sister's shoulder, "Come now, Gandalf – it  _must_  have been the hair!" He was still shocked to see her before him now.

Eliza's porcelain skin flushed as the fellowship chuckled. The hobbits could not help but marvel. Her hair was indeed  _very_  red; almost fiery. Eliza attempted to join in on the light-heartedness but was quickly distracted by dark whispers in her mind. Her face slowly turned towards the tiny hobbit Frodo. Eliza's deep green eyes stared intensely at the Ring-bearer. As not to arouse suspicion, she clawed her gaze away for it only to be caught by the elf. He stood tall and quiet at the edge of the group; with a calculating expression upon his features. A cold shiver ran down Eliza's spine as she spoke again, "I am here to offer my own help to the fellowship."

"Be that as it may," Aragorn replied cautiously, "you are seemingly unarmed, My Lady. This quest is likely fraught with danger."

A wry slight smile crept across Eliza's face but she coolly replied, "Do not make the mistake of thinking I cannot pull my own weight." She glanced then at Boromir, almost questioning him with her eyes. Boromir shook his head ever so slightly and Eliza seemingly obeyed.

Legolas's naturally heightened senses meant he was the only other who noticed this subtle yet curious signal.

"I am sure  _you_  understand," Eliza went on, with a small bow of her head, "one can be far more than one appears." She recognised the man must have been Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor as Elrond had mentioned his joining the group.

The ranger, Aragorn, nodded slowly in reply, briefly bowing his own head despite his doubts.

This time, Gimli spoke, "What I _think_ Aragorn is trying to say is… we do not know if this mission truly befits a wom-" but he was cut off as Eliza swiftly wrapped her ankle around his, catching the dwarf off guard, sending him toppling onto his back. Gimli sulked; embarrassed that everyone had witnessed his fall - especially the elf! He thought he would surely never hear the end of it… but wisely decided to find the amusing side.

"Well," Gandalf laughed, "it seems the fellowship has grown." Any original tension was seemingly forgotten. With a quick nod of his head toward Aragorn and then to Eliza, he continued, "Frodo will have yet another protector. Your assistance is most welcome Lady Eliza."

Gandalf was certain a more plausible reason for her arrival would make itself apparent as they journeyed onward. It was doubtful her absence at Minas Tirith had gone unnoticed, so it must have been that she was  _sent_. Gandalf frowned outwardly at these musings. It was most improper and unusual for a woman so close to the Steward to be sent; and alone too. There must have been a very important, and likely secret, motive behind it all. Gandalf shelved these considerations for the moment with a final thought …  _there must be a very good reason for her to be sent… instead of Faramir_.

"Thank you Gandalf," Eliza replied. "And, Frodo – I will do everything in my… power… to see this thing destroyed." Shooting a sideways glance at Boromir, she concluded, "For that is what  _must_ happen." This seemed to startle Boromir who was notably left scowling at his sister's last remark.


	2. We must turn back!

The fellowship began to make, what would be, the slow and arduous task of paving their way through the Pass of Caradhras. The lower slopes glistened in the bright sun, but, just beneath the snowy surface laid sharp and jagged rocks. The hobbits found the snow far deeper and more treacherous than the other members and it was Frodo who first slipped. He tumbled down the slope quickly, past most of the group, to the rear where Aragorn was thankfully able to right him again. Instinctively, Frodo frantically clutched around his neck for the ring, but it was not in its usual place.

Although Eliza's keen, emerald eyes were the first to spot where the missing ring had fallen, she was not the first to grasp it. It was Boromir who lifted the ring from its resting place by the trailing chain. Eliza heard the sinister whispers return as her brother peered at the tiny object dangling from his grip.

"Boromir..." Eliza whispered softly, but Boromir's stare hardly wavered. " _Boromir_ ," she repeated more urgently.

"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt… over so small a thing," Boromir began, quietly, "Such a little thing." Slowly, he reached out with his other hand, as if to touch it.

"Boromir!" Aragorn remarked sternly, grasping the hilt of his sword beneath his cloak. "Give the ring to Frodo."

Something clicked inside Boromir and he looked up from his trance. "As you wish," he replied approaching Frodo, who quickly snatched the ring back. Boromir laughed at his reaction ruffling the hobbit's hair. "I care not," Boromir said, but reality seemed quite the opposite. Eliza sensed his bluff too and it worried her greatly. She thought if the strong and brave Boromir was caving to the ring's will - what hope had the rest of them?

The group pressed on with their mission, making their way deeper and deeper into the mountains. It was at a high altitude, with howling winds and icy snow battering the faces of the companions that Legolas made his way to the front. He moved along the surface of the deep snow; his steps hardly leaving an imprint. He could stare straight into the blinding snow storm without even flinching, while the rest of the fellowship strained with every step. In the meantime, Eliza wrapped herself tightly in her cloak in an effort to disguise the fact that the bitter temperatures and harsh conditions were also having little effect on her. She waded through the snow and ice feeling guilty seeing others struggle, when she could aid them - if only Boromir would only give her the word. She assured herself that if Boromir did not trust their new companions yet, than neither would she. After all, she trusted him more than anyone. Frowning a little at this she reconsidered,  _except perhaps Faramir_. Her brother Faramir was so calm and wise, Eliza reminisced, a real diplomat. He was far less impulsive than Boromir and herself, which was something Eliza always admired about him. She had always respected the value in thought.

Suddenly Eliza's mind rushed back to the present when Legolas shouted, "There is a fell voice on the air!" above the violent winds.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf yelled, with a tremble in his voice.

Upon the call of this name hordes of snow and rock plummeted from the peaks above, and the group was very lucky to avoid them. Sections of the path ahead collapsed and the companions found themselves trapped on an ever thinning ledge of sheer cliff. The fellowship pressed their backs hard against the mountain for reprieve.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn shouted above the swirling storm, "Gandalf, we  _must_  turn back!"

Gandalf made attempts at counter spells, willing the mountain to be still, but they did little to hinder the assault.

All of a sudden, a huge bolt of lightning struck above the group, causing an avalanche.

Boromir protectively threw his shield over the heads of himself and Eliza. Eliza clutched at Merry and Pippin as the snow hailed down, completely burying the group.

Fortunately, the heads of all companions popped up above the surface in quick succession. When it was determined that, miraculously, all were safe the group bickered about which alternative route to take. Their current path was proving too futile… and dangerous –  _especially_  for the little hobbits. But, when no clear decision could be reached, the responsibility to choose was thrust upon the Ringbearer. Despite Boromir's petitions that the Gap of Rohan and Gondor be their best and safest option, Frodo simply stated, "We will go through the mines."

Though this decision brought forth much fear in the eyes of Gandalf, he simply replied, "So be it."


	3. Gateway to Moria

It was late by the time the fellowship reached the Doors of Durin - the gateway to the underground dwarf realm of Moria. By appearance, the doors seemed simple to operate, but in practise Gandalf found them quite the opposite. The wizard recited countless spells of man, elf and dwarf but none reaped the outcome they so desperately sought.

Boromir, Legolas and Eliza watched silently from the water's edge as Aragorn persuaded Merry and Pippin to cease their constant rock hurling. "Do not disturb the water," he warned, when he and Boromir noticed the formation of unusual ripples on the lake's surface.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question, My Lady," Legolas said turning to Eliza, breaking the silence.

"Err…" Eliza replied quietly with an uneasy waver in her voice, but then more confidently "Of course. Only, please call me Eliza."

Legolas nodded politely, "Was the destruction of the ring the  _only_  reason for your joining the fellowship?" he questioned, treading carefully.

Noticing that both Aragorn and Boromir were distracted, busily studying the water, Eliza replied, "Well, no, actually. Truthfully, I am here to help protect Boromir most of all. I was sent by our Father to do so."

Legolas seemed to muse over her reply so Eliza continued, laughing, "I am stronger than I look."

"I do not doubt that," Legolas murmured, "The journey to reach us would have been quite perilous in the best of times. And these times grow dark." Eliza could not help but sense that although this elf was a stranger he was well-meaning and genuine. Eliza trusted her feelings; they had not led her astray before.

"Boromir is our Father's… favourite, you see," Eliza began, tilting her head in the direction of her brother. "He is ambitious. A powerful warrior and a great leader. He cares very deeply for the people of Gondor. Their best interests are _always_ at the heart of his actions… even if he can be a little headstrong and stubborn. Faramir, too, is a wonderful brother; loyal, protective and very clever. But, he is far more cautious than Boromir. Our Father seems to consider this… a… lack of courage, I suppose. I sometimes even feel like our Father prefers me over his own blood… It is strange. Perhaps _that_ is why I have been sent instead of Faramir."

Eliza knew her last statement was not entirely truthful - there was a significant  _reason_  why she had been sent and Faramir had not. But she knew she must keep that a secret, for now at least. It was a secret very few were privy to.  _And for good reason_  Eliza assured herself - though it did not sit well with her that she manipulated the truth _. Perhaps the fellowship may learn the whole truth soon_ , she pondered.

"And what of you, Eliza?" Legolas prodded.

"Oh! Me?" Eliza replied, a little stunned, "Well - I'm just adopted."

Legolas almost chuckled, "Yes, but what are you like?"

"Well…" Eliza began awkwardly. She had little opportunity to speak with strangers, especially about herself. "I am a… private person I suppose. Ever since I was small I've been kep— stayed in Minas Tirith." Clearing her throat she went on more confidently, "I am extremely lucky to have such an important family to raise me. Father, Boromir and Faramir have looked after me since I was three when my Mother… was kil—  _died_." Eliza shook herself out of the chatter, a little saddened and visibly guilty for rambling.

Legolas detected the filter on her words so he decided it would be best to divert the conversation, and continued with, "Why don't you carry my elvish knife, I can tell you are a capable fighter. You are certainly from a family of strong…"

Eliza jumped suddenly as he motioned to hand her the knife, her eyes fixated on the blade; glinting in the moonlight. She very carefully pushed the carved, wooden handle back in refusal, despite it being an honourable and kind offer. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't possib—"

"What's going on?" Boromir remarked as he approached the two. His tone was mostly curious.

"L-Legolas was just showing me his elvish knife," Eliza blurted out, almost too quickly. Then more thoughtfully she went on, "It has the most intricate carvings, Legolas."

Legolas carefully re-strapped the knife to his back and pondered as to why Eliza had reacted in such a strange way.  _Why had it startled her so much?_  he thought. She had appeared almost frightened – but he was certain  _it was not of himself_  that she was afraid. With a brother like Boromir she could not be averse of knives.

Eliza took Boromir aside and whispered, "It was fine! I had it under control."

"I never said otherwise," Boromir replied with a frown. "Do you think that I not trust you? After all these years," he laughed. Eliza grinned with exaggeration as she playfully rolled her eyes. She distracted herself with the thought that she was the age, now, that Boromir had been when she had first been taken into their care. Twenty-two. Faramir had been even younger, he had only been seventeen!  _How those years have passed by wonderfully,_  Eliza reminisced. Never once had Boromir or Faramir treated her like anything less than a beloved, little sister. She would be forever grateful for their acceptance, love, care and protection.

Just as Eliza pondered those thoughts Gandalf grumbled in defeat smacking his staff against the unrelenting entrance. Aragon, Gimli, Legolas and the little hobbits gathered around him in sympathy.

"Gandalf..." Merry whispered breaking the silence as he gazed over at Boromir and Eliza who wandered together by the water's edge.

"Yes, Meriadoc," Gandalf replied, glad of the distraction from his current musings on his lack of success.

"Why did the Steward of Gondor adopt Eliza all those years ago?" Merry asked.

"That is a question for the Steward himself, young Hobbit," Gandalf chuckled, "But, I can tell you, Boromir and Eliza have been inseparable since."

Smiling wistfully he continued, "Eliza brought much joy to the Steward's family. Denethor had grown so cold after his wife's passing... it was as if she brought warmth and light to the white stone halls again."

The fellowship smiled as they watched the brother and sister talking, smiling and laughing by the lake, it was obvious that they had grown close over the years. They never treated each other like anything less than a real brother or sister. It was striking, that both complemented each other so well. Boromir the brave and confident leader, protector of Gondor - someone Eliza could  _always_ look up to.

"But do not be fooled into thinking Eliza is a simple woman. She is incredibly bright and capable, with what some might describe as her brother's wild streak," Gandalf went on with a chuckle. "I remember, many years ago, when Boromir was awarded the title of High Warden of the White Tower - a great honour in Gondor. It was quite the affair with a large ceremony and dignitaries as far as the eye could see. Eliza, however, grew restless from the countless rehearsals that were keeping her brothers occupied. She could not stand the time apart from them. So, before the official ceremony began she tampered with Boromir's saddle, loosening it considerably."

The fellowship listened intently, holding their breath; the hobbits eagerly leaning closer.

"When Boromir had been awarded the title, he whipped out his sword gallantly, holding it high into the air," Gandalf went on mimicking Boromir as he described the scene, "But when he went to mount his steed, the tallest horse in all of Gondor, the saddle was so loose he toppled right over the other side!"

The fellowship burst into laughter and Gimli clapped loudly, throwing his head back. The companions cringed as they pictured Boromir's embarrassment in what _should_ have been his moment of glory.

When the laugher had died down Gandalf added, "The crowd was shocked to be sure, and all was silent but for the bursts of laughter from the tiny red haired girl... Who had stationed herself for the very best view of the fall. Boromir bravely laughed it off, ignoring the mud that covered his ceremonial garb. He even let Eliza ride his horse bareback all the way to the stables."

"And Boromir... he never married then?" Sam piped up.

"No, Samwise," Gandalf replied, slowly shaking his head and slightly shrugging his shoulders. "He has always been far more focused on the glory of battle - I think he cares not for that part of his life. Many women did their best to turn his eye, after all, he is a well-respected leader and honourable soldier... but none ever drew his attention like Eliza. He cares for and protects his little sister as if she were his very own blood."

"You remember well, Gandalf," Eliza cut in and the fellowship jumped - in their deep concentration they had not noticed the two they spoke of draw near.

Eliza laughed, sending a teasing smile at her brother, "Surely you also recall the celebrations where none could dance with Boromir but I?"

"Who could find the time for other women when I had this rascal for a sister!" Boromir mocked gently. He was not used to his private life being topic of conversation but Eliza just pretended to spin Boromir like they were dancing once more. Boromir coughed gruffly in protest as he straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest - if he wasn't careful, he thought, they might think he was soft!

“Not only a brother but a best friend too,” murmured Eliza.

Gazing back to the enchanted doors Frodo suddenly jumped to his feet. "Gandalf! It's a riddle," he declared, "Speak _'friend'_ and enter! What's the Elvish word for friend?"

As soon as Gandalf replied "Mellon," the heavy stone doors rumbled. A large crevice appeared and split open to reveal a dark chamber.

The fellowship moved slowly into the entrance and Gandalf fiddled with a crystal so that the group might have some light. The moonlight did little to illuminate the chamber. Gimli was visibly relieved to finally be inside and boasted of the enjoyable hospitality they were about the experience. The Dwarven food he described sounded particularly hearty.

The groups' anticipation, however, was quickly dashed when the glowing light revealed a far more grim existence. The chamber was littered with the dead and broken bodies of many dwarves.

"This is no mine," Boromir said with a fearful tremor, "It's a tomb!"

"Oh no!…" Gimli wailed in shock and utter horror, "Noooooo!"

Eliza's heart sank as she realised that the dwarf had been completely unaware of his kinsmen's brutal demise. Legolas bent down to a nearby skeleton removing an arrow from its chest. "Goblins," he spat in disgust tossing the arrow aside; and quickly fitted one of his own to his bow. The rest of the fellowship drew their weapons in suit.

After frantically muttering about the poor decision they had made in venturing into the mines in the first place Boromir yelled, "Now get out of here, get out!"

All of a sudden something grabbed Frodo's ankle and he was dragged backwards towards the lake; arms flailing. The group rushed to his aid and began hacking the serpentine tentacles that entwined him. Legolas fired arrows as the others attacked the creature with their blades. Eliza rushed toward Frodo in an attempt to get a good grasp on him. But, before she could, the hobbit was lifted high into the air, dangling helplessly above the monster's gaping jaws. The fellowship desperately slashed any limbs they could find until Frodo was released, dropping into Boromir's arms. Legolas shot an arrow straight into the eye of the Watcher in the Water as the group rushed to the relative safety of mines once more. Eliza grabbed both Merry and Pippin and ran deep into the chamber.

The creature was furious that its meal had been reclaimed. In its scramble to reach the group, the monster’s enormous tentacles caved in the entrance; blocking it with huge slabs of stone. The chamber fell into complete darkness. The fellowship, now, had no choice but to make the long and uncertain journey through the mines. Every individual wondered whether they would be able to do so unnoticed. If they did not, the consequence was quite obvious – it lay around them in the darkness.


	4. Fool of a Took!

The fellowship carefully, and as silently as possible, made their way through the caverns of the mountain. Gandalf led the group, distracting their grim thoughts with comments on how the wealth of Moria lay in its Mithril deposits. Mithril, he explained, was a rare and extremely valuable metal - harder than steel yet as supple as linen and as cold as ice. Unfortunately, the chatter did little to divert Eliza's thoughts; she just prayed that they would all reach the other side of the mountain safely with as little delay as possible. The air was so  _still_  in the mines; with no breeze to relieve the constant closeness. There was also hardly any light and despite Eliza's love of the earth, being  _beneath_  it felt extremely unnatural.

Much time passed before Gandalf finally announced, "Behold: the great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf." He lifted his staff, shining light around the enormous hall that reached as far as one could see.

The fellowship stilled in awe at the huge expanse in which they found themselves. Enormous columns of stone appeared to support the weight of the mountain.

"Now there's an eye opener and no mistake," Sam murmured in wonder.

A beam of light within a room suddenly caught Gimli's attention and he hastily ran towards it, despite Gandalf warnings.

The fellowship followed, carefully filing inside the chamber after the dwarf, only to find it littered with more bodies and weapons. A solitary tomb lay in the centre of the room; a single beam of light from the ceiling illuminating the inscription. Gimli knelt by the crypt solemnly.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," Gandalf read. "He is dead then. It is as I feared."

Eliza was moved with pity; her heart went out to her grief stricken friend. Though she had little dealings with dwarves she took a step forward and placed a compassionate hand on Gimli's shoulder. Boromir followed suit as the dwarf let out heartbreaking sobs.

Gandalf peered around the room, his gaze falling upon a skeleton clutching a large, battered book. After sliding the book from the corpse's grasp he opened it, flipping to the final entries.

"We must move on," Legolas whispered urgently to Aragorn. "We cannot linger!" he warned.

"Gimli is hurting, we cannot just leave when..." Eliza whispered but fell silenced when Aragorn offered an understanding nod. He appeared to be weighing up their options that very moment.

"They have taken the bridge… and the second hall," Gandalf read aloud from the tattered pages, "We have barred the gates… but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes... Drums… drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out… They are coming!"

Agitated, the fellowship fidgeted - their nervous glances spread to every corner of the room.

Without warning, a huge clattering and crashing rang out behind Gandalf. The wizard whipped around grabbing his hat and staff from the hands of Pippin. The little hobbit's curiosity had clearly gotten the better of him as he had unwittingly caused a heavily armoured body to plummet down a mine shaft. What was usually deafening silence was replaced by loud crashing sounds echoing throughout mines. Pippin winced painfully at every smash until the noises finally ceased.

The fellowship let out a small sigh of relief when no immediate repercussions could be heard. Perhaps they had gotten away with the incident after all, but Eliza was not so sure. Her fingers twitched nervously despite her efforts to ignore them.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf chastised angrily. "Throw yourself in next time and  _rid_  us of your  _stupidity_!" he spat, towering over the hobbit at fault who was hanging his head in shame.

Suddenly, in the midst of the tense silence a single drum beat echoed through the chamber. The fellowship flinched in trepidation as beat grew louder; growing faster and drawing closer at an unimaginable speed.

"Orcs!" Legolas spat; as he prepared himself for imminent battle. He shot Eliza the most confident nod he could muster and decided  _I will not see my friends fall, even if it is the last thing I do_.


	5. They have a Cave Troll.

Boromir rushed to the doors of the chamber attempting to close them but jolted backward in shock when arrows narrowly missed his face. Aragorn tossed aside his torch, running forward to aid his comrade.

"Get back!" Aragorn yelled to the frightened huddle of hobbits, "Stay close to Gandalf!"

As the two men managed to close the weak, deteriorated doors Boromir sighed in mocking relief, "They have a Cave Troll."

The elf tossed weapon after weapon at the two in an attempt to barricade the entrance and at its hasty completion, the group drew their own.

Gimli confidently leapt upon the tomb growling, "Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

Armoured orcs amassed behind the flimsy blockade and began to break it down. Legolas and Aragorn fired arrows through the various holes, striking the enemy when suddenly the orcs began to spewing into the chamber. Chaos erupted and even more arrows flew by.

Eliza's body pulsed with adrenaline but her mind was a tumult of emotion. She feared she could not possibly use her own secret weapon in such close quarters - not without harming the rest of the fellowship. Glancing about desperately she spied a sturdy wooden pole. It was decided. She would have to rely on her other capabilities for the moment. For many years she had practised sparring with Faramir in secret. He was fair and practical man and had taught her many ways to defend herself against an attack. She channelled those memories, eliminating the inhibitions in her mind. Stationing herself near the hobbits she brandished her new weapon.

Any orc that drew near Eliza smashed with the pole, finishing them with a kick and a ferocious yell. Eliza recalled the weakest spots in a body from her lessons with Faramir. She struck the orcs at the back of the head, in the neck, on their knees; careful to choose areas unguarded by their thick armour. Boromir frowned at what he saw before him - the moves his sister made definitely reminded him of the style of another. They had Faramir's signature he was sure –  _has my brother been teaching her to fight?_ he pondered. Where Boromir's strength was in his brute force his younger brother fought with more thought. Faramir always sought out their enemies weaknesses to compensate for his smaller stature.

Amidst the chaos Gimli thrust his axe about savagely, striking as many orcs as possible. Gandalf let out a yell and thrashed the enemy with his staff and sword. Even the hobbits attacked any foe that approached with their miniature blades.

Aragorn and Boromir fought valiantly; violently slicing any enemy they came across when, all of a sudden, the ground shook as a massive cave troll plunged into the chamber. Legolas's shots did little beyond angering the beast. It charged forward, thrashing its stone weapon about dangerously. Eliza saw Sam bravely dive beneath its legs to avoid its deadly strikes. It was about to crush him when Aragorn and Boromir pulled the troll's chain, steering it away. The troll spun around unexpectedly, the chain slackened and the giant promptly used its weapon to send Boromir flying into a stone wall. He fell to the floor, and his body was limp; unconscious.

"Boromir!" Eliza screamed in terror as she tried to reach him. She knew he was incredibly vulnerable lying there so unprotected.

Boromir jolted abruptly at her call shaking himself back to reality. An orc approached but Aragorn intervened, throwing a blade right through its neck with a quick nod.

The hobbits wisely scurried away to hide as the cave troll smashed the tomb of Balin to pieces. When Gimli appeared could be in trouble it was the elf that quickly diverted the troll's attention away.

Legolas sliced his way through many orcs almost elegantly before he heard Eliza's frightful call, "Legolas! Look out!"

He turned just in the nick of time to avoid the cave troll slinging its chain into him. The troll continued the assault with its new weapon but it became snagged on a tall, stone column. Legolas used this as an opportunity to climb aboard the enemy. Standing high upon the cave troll's shoulders he fired an arrow at its skull. The arrow was deflected away from the tough bone so Legolas leapt down to devise a new approach.

The cave troll decided to return its attention to the hobbits. They were lucky to narrowly avoid its smashing strikes that left craters on the solid stone floor.

Frodo desperately hid, but the cave troll sensed its prey was close. Before anyone could reach him it had managed to back him into a corner.

"Aragorn!  _Aragorn_!" the little hobbit yelped in desperation as he was dragged from his corner. Frodo managed to slice the attacker's hand and he was dropped for a brief moment.

Aragorn leapt into action, bravely surging forward and shoved a long weapon into the troll's chest. This angered and pained the troll who retaliated by violently tossing the ranger aside.

Despite Frodo's frantic attempts to rouse him, Aragorn’s eyes remained shut and he made no movement. Merry and Pippin hurled rocks at the beast but it was too late. The cave troll pushed Frodo to the wall and drove a long blade straight into his chest.

Frodo let out a moan before he crumpled; face to the cold stone floor.

The fellowship panicked and desperately fought off the remaining orcs to reach Frodo. Merry and Pippin wildly stabbed the cave troll and Sam rushed to the side of his fallen friend.

The cave troll cried out as Legolas sent an arrow flying into its roaring mouth. The troll stumbled before it collapsed in final defeat.

Now that the immediate enemies had been overcome, Eliza scrambled to Frodo's unmoving body. Aragorn awoke now too, crawling slowly to her side; he whispered sadly.

With tears in her eyes Eliza shakily set down her weapon and turned the tiny hobbit over. Frodo let out a quiet groan and Eliza's eyes widened in shock.

Sam stumbled forward and cried, "He's alive!" while the rest of the fellowship let out a sigh of sheer relief and exhaustion.

"I'm all right," Frodo gasped groggily as he held his chest, "I'm not hurt."

"You should be dead!" Aragorn whispered incredulously, "That spear would have skewered a wild boar."

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf chuckled; a proud smile plastered the old man's wrinkled face. He never failed to appreciate the incredible strength, and sheer luck, in one so small.

Frodo slowly pulled back his shirt and in blind disbelief Eliza reached out to inspect if there was even a wound when…

"Arrgh!" Eliza cried out, instantly reeling back her hand in pain. The tips of her fingers were singed. Wincing, she quickly hid her hand beneath her cloak. Frodo looked confused, and the other companions stepped forward in concern. Their gaze was swiftly distracted when Frodo's chest revealed an undershirt of glimmering mithril armour.

"Mithril!" Gimli murmured awe, grinning, "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."

Eliza drew in a ragged breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to be calm. Her fingers still burned from their contact with the metal but she was fairly certain they would recover quickly. She silently thanked the Ilúvatar that the touch had been brief.

In an attempt to cover her unusual reaction just a moment ago Eliza stammered, "Y-yes, it certainly shocked me." Though puzzled, the majority of the companions were just glad the two appeared unscathed. Legolas, however, furrowed his brow at the thinly veiled response. It seemed to him that Eliza was hiding something… not well enough for his quick eyes not to notice… but adequate enough for him  _not_  to understand. He shot a glance at Gandalf; for  _surely_  these cues were not lost on one as wise as Mithrandir. The elf was half relieved to see the wizard deep in contemplation. It seemed Legolas was not the only one with unanswered ponderings.

Placing a steady hand on Eliza's shoulder Gandalf whispered knowingly, "It appears Frodo is not the only companion to carry a heavy burden on this journey."

Eliza's cheeks paled as she looked nervously into Gandalf's eyes. She was relieved when she saw only comfort and understanding. He knew what she was.  _He is one of the Maia_  Eliza remembered; she could hardly expect to keep her powers hidden from him for very long. He had watched her carefully, and sure enough, he had accurately deduced her secret.

Eliza swallowed heavily; guilt manifested in her eyes, "As time went on, I knew not how to explain," she whispered, "Especially when my safety has always depended upon its secrecy."

The wizard nodded softly and opened his mouth to respond when loud screeches rang out from the halls; disrupting his thoughts. A pang of fear on Gandalf's face was quickly replaced by his booming command, "To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!" and the fellowship promptly sprung from the chamber.

 

 

 


	6. A Cruel Blow.

Eliza's knees crumpled heavily on the jagged white rocks that jutted from the mountain side. Although her hands instinctively flew out before her they only seemed to float, suspended in mid-air – as everything moved in slow motion. Eliza's vision went in and out and she desperately clung to the rock for stability. It felt like it was all that stopped her from losing grip on reality or floating into space.

Eliza fought with her very own breath as she tried to stem its constant waver. Her thoughts rattled over and over, repeating the scenes that passed just moments ago as tears finally streamed down her cheeks.

The fellowship had run. Run to the very bridge that would lead them to freedom – only to be dealt such a cruel blow.

Surrounded by snarling, leering goblins they had heard _it_. The monster like none could dream. A Balrog of Morgoth. Instantly alarmed, the goblins retreated. They knew all too well what approached and it sent them scuttling up the walls in fear.

Though it seemed like fortune might have reared its head the fellowship ran; faster than any of them had run before. That was when it appeared. Eliza's heart leapt into her mouth when she saw the beast. It towered over everything in the halls; glowing with flames as it moved with such menace and purpose. It was there to destroy anything in its path.

The astonished looks of the Fellowship were worlds away from Gandalf's steely, unwavering stare. While the Fellowship grasped to comprehend the beast before them, the Wizard knew that they stood but a breath away from annihilation.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir stuttered; Eliza was sure he had never faced any enemy quite like this. The warrior, usually full of leadership and strategy seemed knew not even where to begin.

Gandalf did not respond for the moment. His eyes were closed and his lips were sealed as he stood in silent contemplation. The deep growl of the beast rumbled through the halls again as its gaze fell upon the group.

"A Balrog," Gandalf whispered opening his eyes again, "a demon of the ancient world."

Legolas's eye flickered with the innate fear he so deeply felt as shadow fell across the stone floors.

"This foe is beyond any of you…" Gandalf murmured, then more quickly, "Run!"

Eliza's mind flurried as she recalled the group hurtling their way down the corridor. Her feet instinctively carried her faster than her mind could conceive. In fact it vaguely reminded her of an old, old feeling...

"Quickly!" Gandalf yelled as he herded the group twist after turn in search of the exit they so desperately sought. "Lead them on, Aragorn!" the Wizard commanded, "The bridge is near!"

Aragorn grabbed the old man but was instantly thrown back in rejection. "Do as I say!" Gandalf insisted as sheer confusion swept across Aragorn's face. "Swords are no more use here!" the Wizard muttered.

The passing moments of escape were a blur in Eliza's mind. They ran and jumped in utter terror as their pursuer gained on them with its every fateful step.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf called out, "Fly!"

It was then that a sheer, menacing wall of fire rose behind the group and Gandalf slowly turned to face it. The enormous black shadowy form of the Balrog rose through the flames. Its eyes were white fire and its horns were black ash, curling like the head of a bull.

The fellowship poured across the thin bridge to safety as Gandalf commanded to the beast, "You cannot pass!" The Balrog's cloven foot stamped down onto the bridge in defiance and it burst into flame.

"Gandalf!" Frodo cried in terror, but the Wizard did not hesitate.

"I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor…" Gandalf proclaimed, "The dark fire will not avail you! Flame of Udûn!"

The Balrog's weapon shattered as it struck down on Gandalf. Gritting his teeth Gandalf growled, "Go back to the Shadow!"

A glowing whip formed in the beasts hand and it waved it menacingly at the tiny foe who dared to stand in its way.

"You — shall not — pass!" Gandalf yelled, as a flash of blue light shot from the staff that he drove into the bridge.

The Balrog stepped forward but the bridge instantly collapsed beneath its weight, sending it plummeting into the deep, unending chasm below.

Gandalf let out a breath of relief as he watched the beast's demise, but just as he turned to re-join the Fellowship the beast's whip flew out - coiling around the Wizard's ankle, dragging him perilously close to the edge. The strength of the wizard was drained. Now he was just an old man – clinging desperately to a rock; fear rising in his eyes.

Frodo and Eliza leapt forward in unison but only the Hobbit could be restrained by Boromir's strong arms. "No, No!" Boromir yelled as Eliza manoeuvred out of his grip, stumbling forward in her trance.

"Gandalf!" Frodo cried in terror.

Eliza could see the Wizard struggle more and more to hold onto the bridge with every passing second.

That was when fate dealt its cruel blow. Eliza was just metres away when Gandalf's contorted face morphed into one of insistence as he muttered his final words, "Fly, you fools."

Knowingly, Eliza dived forward. She skid along on her chest, her arms outstretched scraping along the surface of the bridge until she reached its edge, but, Gandalf let go of his grip. He plummeted mere centimetres from her grasp.

All was quiet as Eliza lay still, empty palms, dangling helplessly over the cliff. Her gaze never leaving Gandalf's as he fell.


	7. Lothlorien

The pain of losing Gandalf was all too raw and overwhelming as the remaining fellowship laid where they collapsed. A huge sense of defeat and loss clouded their thoughts.  _What ever will we do without Gandalf's direction and wisdom,_  Eliza contemplated bleakly -  _who has the strength to lead us now_? Eliza found it so hard to think of Gandalf being…gone, yet it was even harder to think upon anything else.

In the hopelessness Aragorn stepped forward, encouraging the group to their feet. He willed them on with the promise of the elf kingdom of Lothlorien that lie less than a day's journey ahead. He distracted them the inevitable dangers of staying for much longer. Eliza stood still, her head slightly tilted as she watched Aragorn gather the fellowship and lead them onward after such an unthinkable blow. She could not help but notice that leadership suited this man. He had a certain protective nature to him and a certain something that made you sit up and pay attention, yet also… something trusting and wise.  _Perhaps Aragorn really is born to be a leader…_

"Stay close, young Hobbits!" exclaimed Gimli, disrupting Eliza's thoughts, as the Fellowship reached the edges of the great forest of Lothlorien. "They say," he continued "that a great sorceress lives in these woods, an Elf-witch, of terrible power. All who look upon her, fall under her spell…and are never seen again!"

An involuntary shiver coursed its way down Eliza's body - and although she shook it away every muscle remained on edge. There was certainly an unusual quality about this forest. An eerie closeness… like the constant feeling of being watched; almost like one’s very own thoughts were being listened to. Eliza looked backwards over her shoulder as casually as possible as she scanned the trees. She could see no proof of the imminent threat she sensed.

Throughout her life Eliza had had little experience with elves; this journey was by far the closest she had ever been to one for any period of time. Eliza often found herself watching Legolas intently. She was curious whether all elves were as mysterious, agile and lithe as he. Even though he moved with superior poise and grace her intuition knew a switch lay just beneath the surface. Something that turned lethal if even the slightest threat to the group arose. Eliza had learned that Legolas was the son of Thranduil, Elvenking of the Woodland realm. These Woodland elves were always described as less wise and more dangerous than those of other realms; more militaristic. However, moving through the Lorien woods, these thoughts gave little solace; Eliza did not feel any safer.

"Mister Frodo?" Sam prodded an unsettled-looking Frodo as Gimli muttered "Well, here is one Dwarf she won't  _ensnare_  so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!"

Before Gimli had even drawn his next breath an assembly of silent elves stepped from the cover of trees; their bows drawn menacingly in the faces of the Fellowship. Legolas drew his own bow in instant retaliation while Aragorn raised his hands unthreateningly. It all happened so suddenly that Eliza wisely remained motionless.

A tall elf with golden hair slowly approached the standoff and broke the silence, muttering, "The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark."

Gimli growled before the group was whisked away to a platform high in the trees.

After the formal elvish introductions were taken care of Gimli could not help but grumble, "So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can all understand!"

It was the golden haired elf again, whose name Eliza managed to deduce was Haldir, who responded, "We have not had  _dealings_  with the Dwarves since the  _Dark_ Days."

"And you know what this Dwarf says to that?" Gimli quipped snidely, "Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!"  _(I spit upon your grave!)_

The insult must have struck a chord because Haldir was left visibly irritated. Grabbing the dwarf's shoulder abruptly Aragorn whispered, " _That_  was  _not_  so courteous." The rest of the fellowship fidgeted uncomfortably; the air thick with tension. The likelihood that they would be admitted into the forest now looked as though it would slip away before their very eyes.

Haldir stared down at Frodo emphatically and remarked, "You bring great evil with you," and turning again to Aragorn he said, "You can go no further."

This prompted a long and detailed debate between Haldir and Aragorn. Aragorn implored the elf's support, appealing to his sense of compassion and the importance of a safe passage for their mission. A mission that would impact all lives on Middle Earth. Eliza knew very few of the words that passed between the two but managed to piece together a sense of the dangerous road ahead.

Frodo sat alone, silently contemplating his own inner turmoil; guilt flickered in his eyes. The fellowship peered at him from their respective positions around the platform but none seemed to offer any comfort for the hurting hobbit.

That was when Boromir extended a thoughtful comment in Frodo's direction. "Gandalf's death was not in vain…" he began, "Nor would he have you give up hope. You carry a heavy burden, Frodo… don't carry the weight of the dead."

Eliza smiled softly to herself hearing her brother's sympathetic and understanding remark. For a battle hardened man, strong and highly esteemed, a High Warden of the White Tower, what Eliza cherished most was Boromir's softer side. It appeared that he knew _just_ the words to say to one contemplating the recent and crippling loss of a dear friend.

Frodo was moved; the words of Eliza's brother soothed his troubled heart. Haldir approached again, abruptly, looking less than comfortable. He simply stated, "You will follow me."

The fellowship was led deeper into the golden forest by Haldir. After a great deal of walking the group stepped out into a clearing; a glade of trees towered above them in the near distance.

"Caras Galadhon…" Haldir announced with a proud smile upon his lips, "the  _heart_  of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

 


	8. Nine Still, One Missing

By the time the fellowship reached the great trees night had fallen and the forest was lit with silvery blue lights. The group ascended a spiralling staircase around a very tall tree until they reached a glistening palace in the treetops. Before them lay a few steps and a glittering archway.

Without warning a couple appeared, emerging from the archway. Glowing white light shone from within them casting beams across the faces of the fellowship that had assembled at the base of the steps. The couple were the epitome of elven beauty and grace as they drifted hand in hand down the stairs to reach them. Eliza stood unmoving; in complete awe and she almost forgot to breathe. The hobbits’ eyes were wide with astonishment; some of their mouths gaping in wonder. Aragorn lowered his gaze reverently and placed his fingertips on his forehead. The sheer white light dimmed and the elf Celeborn began to speak.

"The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone," he began. "Nine there are here… nine set out from Rivendell…  _yet_  one is still missing.” Celeborn’s eyes met with Eliza’s before he continued, “Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him… I can no longer see him from afar."

Galadriel's gaze moved poignantly from Frodo to Aragorn and she began to speak, "Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into shadow," her tone full of sorrow. Aragorn bowed his head solemnly.

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame," Legolas explained softly, "A Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

Gimli hung his head mournfully but Galadriel wisely reminded, "Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his whole purpose." Her tone lifted this time catching Gimli's gaze as she said, "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled… with grief."

Galadriel then turned to Boromir who visibly struggled under her unwavering stare. He swallowed hard, blinking anxiously, sweat forming on his brow. He clawed his gaze away for reprieve but Eliza saw the tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over. Eliza was stunned. She had never seen her brother look so vulnerable or uneasy; it made her incredibly anxious.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship?" Celeborn openly questioned, "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife," Galadriel went on, her tone ominous, "Stray but a little and it will fail - to the ruin of all." Galadriel's gaze fell upon Sam, Frodo's closest and most faithful companion, and she smiled, " _Yet…_  hope remains - while the company is true."

Galadriel's tone lifted, "Do not let your hearts be troubled," she declared, "Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."


	9. Not-so-peaceful Sleep

The soft singing voices of the elves filled the forest.

"A lament for Gandalf," Legolas declared solemnly.

"What do they say about him?" Merry had asked wistfully, but Legolas could not tell him, the grief was still too near.

Eliza felt exhausted and she knew her brother must be too. She implored him to take a break, but he did not share the collective trust of the elves. He demanded to watch over her while she rested, and though she felt it was unnecessary, she had seen the extent of his fear and uneasiness earlier and thought it best not to push him.

She lay on the soft forest floor between the roots of a great tree in the glade. The air was warm so Eliza lay with her cloak beneath her. She stroked the blades of grass and smiled gently, her eyelids growing heavy.

Eliza knew  _all_  the fellowship needed rest for they were plagued by loss and the uncertainty of their future. She prayed that they would find hope here. She pondered how even the very _soil_ here smelt alive; in fact  _everything_  thrived. Surely their strength would renew too…

Just as Eliza was drifting to sleep she heard Aragorn approach Boromir, who sat protectively watching over his sister; his weapons still within easy reach.

"Take some rest," Aragorn said to Boromir, "These borders are well protected."

"I will find no rest here," replied Boromir; uneasiness and worry evident in his voice. "I heard her voice inside my head," he whispered, referring to Galadriel and her power to enter others’ minds. "She spoke of my father… and the fall of Gondor. She said to me, 'Even now, there is hope left.' But I cannot see it... It is long since we had any hope."

Aragorn sat down listening to Boromir as he continued, "My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing. And now our… our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right and I — I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored."

Something in Eliza's stomach wrenched and she stirred a little from her half-sleep. It was painful to hear her brother, the hero of Gondor, speak with such doubt about their home, their city - their people. He was clearly troubled and if their father's rule was failing…

But Boromir's tone lifted again as when he went on, "Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver. Its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?"

"I have seen the White City," Aragorn replied wistfully, nodding, "long ago."

Proud once more Boromir concluded, "One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guard shall take up the call: 'The Lords of Gondor have returned!'"

Frames and thoughts of her home, the White City, danced through Eliza's mind as she settled down again with a soft smile. This time she drifted soundly to sleep.

Hours passed before Eliza heard a soft creak behind her. She stirred ever so slightly. A weak smile slowly spread across her lips as she felt warm woollen covers around her and a soft mattress beneath her. She lie facing down on her bed and dreamily gazed up to the white stone wall beside her. Then she heard another faint noise. _A footstep?_ She drowsily tilted her head, raising her ear to listen.

Suddenly a rough and callused hand clamped down over her mouth and Eliza started in complete shock. Her eyes shot open in fear and confusion. The large figure loomed over her from behind and she struggled feverishly in its grasp. The covers were thrown back and Eliza's thin nightdress was torn from her back in the process, sending her into a renewed state of sheer panic. Every hair on her body stood on end in the sudden chilly air. Adrenaline coursed through her limbs she lashed out with her feet; her hands trembled wildly. She willed herself to calm down so that she might be able to defend herself… but that was when  _it_  fell down upon her. A cold, hard, heavy sheet of chainmail. It immediately burned fiercely into her flesh like a thousand  _stabbing_ ,  _twisting_  arrows.

The pain was agonising. Tears spilled from Eliza's eyes, and she clenched her jaw unbearably tight. Her vision threatened to go dark just to escape the excruciating pain. The links of steel still seared into her body. The figure's grip loosened for just a moment and Eliza let out a bloodcurdling scream of agony. The sound of a blade clattering to the stone floor was drowned out from the cries of her suffering.

Boromir nearly started as much as Eliza when he saw his sister jolt violently in her sleep. He leaned over, and noticed her sleeping form was trembling. He gently shook her shoulder to rouse her when she violently struck out, knocking him over. The sudden commotion was not lost on Aragorn, who had been sharpening his sword close by in a subtle attempt to keep watch on the weary Boromir.

"Wake up Eliza!" Boromir urged, but she did not stir. She just thrashed fiercely from side to side on the forest floor.

Aragorn hurried over as Boromir tried to pin his sister's legs down. Her limbs were smashing about and she would surely hurt herself. Noticing the bruises already forming on her limbs, Boromir positioned himself on the backs of Eliza's knees. He pushed his hands hard on the small of her back in an attempt to stop her struggles.

"Eliza! Eliza!" they both yelled in growing intensity as Eliza quivered. A stray arm flew out, nearly striking Aragorn's face but he quickly caught her wrist, firmly holding her palm to the floor.

"Wake up! Eliza!" Boromir pleaded, looking more and more frightened as the seconds ticked by. "It's  _just_  a nightmare!"

"Eliza!" Aragorn yelled even louder than before.

Upon hearing the commotion Gimli and Legolas rushed to scene. They arrived to see Eliza silently thrashing about in her sleep while the two men desperately tried to keep her from hurting herself. They begged her over and over to wake.

Gimli approached, kneeling down by Eliza's side, doing his best to help. "My Lady, it's Gimli - please wake!" he implored, "My Lady!"

"She will not wake! She does not even stir!" Boromir fretted, "Why does she not wake?  _It has never taken this long_!" He muttered unintelligibly about his brother, Faramir, as nervous sweat dripped from his brow.

"She will be alright Boromir, she will wake soon," Aragorn reassured, placing a firm hand on Boromir's shoulder. Then, turning to Legolas, he shot worried look, willing the elf to assist in some way – _any_ way.

Legolas found he could not think straight – he simply could not decide what to do. Should he get help? Surely an Elven healer could aid her… or perhaps Galadriel was nearby; she might be able to enter Eliza's mind and sooth her troubles.

But, before Legolas could act, Eliza let out a bloodcurdling scream of agony. The companions’ faced paled in terror at pain she was undoubtedly going through right before their very eyes. Tears spilled down Eliza's cheeks, and she clenched her jaw unbearably tight. With her loose hand she clawed at her back, tearing open the back of her dress. Large scars the length and breadth of her back were now visible - the result of sinister, scorching burns. Even though the scars were old and healed-over their damage was clear - Eliza's back was practically branded. Eliza tossed and turned, writhing with a renewed ferocity as Aragorn and Boromir genuinely struggled to hold her down.

By now, Sam, Merry and Pippin had wandered to the scene, they stood, stunned, as the chaos erupted before their very eyes.

Without even really knowing what he was doing Legolas stumbled forward and knelt by Eliza's face. He gently cupped her cheek and she let out a relieved whimper. Tears still tumbled down her cheeks and her face reeled with pain.

"Eliza…" Legolas whispered softly, "Echuio... An ngell nîn."  _(Awake… for my joy - or 'please')_

Eliza stilled, her struggles ceased and her eye lids slowly fluttered open. She gazed up, slightly confused as her sight came back into focus. Her eyes managed to focus on Legolas's face and she absent-mindedly brought her free hand up to her cheek only for it to rest upon his. This made her start a little and her head flooded back to reality.

"L-Legolas?" she stuttered, still a little confused. Her eyes began to flicker, taking in their surroundings. She tried to make sense, as quickly as possible, of where she was and what had happened.

The fellowship let out a sigh of relief. Aragorn and Boromir both placed a tired and thankful hand on the elf's shoulder. Boromir looked more relieved than anyone as he wiped the sweat from his forehead away, running his hand backward through his hair.

Eliza stood carefully, leaning tentatively on her brother for help. She clenched her fists and spread her fingers out several times when Sam whispered nervously, "Is my Lady alright now? We were real worried about you just now," his eyes shined in the early dawn.

Smiling sweetly at Sam's concern Eliza replied, "I am well now, thank you. It was just… a bad dream."

Boromir looked to the elf whose careful words had roused his sister, only to find a concerned frown upon his face. He followed the elf's gaze to find it fixed on Eliza's scars. Instinctively Boromir wrapped his cloak around his sister's back and the rest of the fellowship politely resolved to busy themselves elsewhere.

Eliza gave Legolas a meek smile before he left and he bowed kindly in reply.

"Thank you,  _friend_ ," Boromir said from behind Legolas. Legolas looked back over his shoulder, nodded simply and went to see where Aragorn had gone. He could feel Boromir's watchful eyes upon his every step.

 


End file.
